


Playground Bullies

by alykapedia



Series: Imagine Your OTP [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mukuro is a big baby, Playgrounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mukuro and Hibari are at a playground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playground Bullies

**Author's Note:**

> Got the idea from imagineyourOTP in tumblr, and it went somewhere along the lines of: imagine your OTP goofing around in a children’s playground like five-year-olds. 
> 
> But I probably used the wrong OTP for this and the wrong fandom to base acceptable five-year-old behaviour from.

“Fuck you,” Hibari coughs out with feeling, feeling decidedly light-headed from the blood-loss. Vongola Decimo’s Cloud guardian sneers in distaste as he stumbles towards the abandoned playground, followed closely by the bane of his very existence. He fumbles gracelessly with his phone, punching the speed dial for Tsuna and barking at the younger man to get them quickly or _I will bite you to death, Sawada Tsunayoshi._

Mukuro chokes on a laugh, slumping down on one of the swings and nursing five broken ribs and perhaps a collapsed lung. “Language, Kyouya,” he gasps out, a lazy smile spreading on his lips as he slowly and unsuccessfully gets the swing to move. “Hey, stop glaring over there and push me.”

“Go die,” is Hibari’s quick reply even as he trudges over to Mukuro and concedes. 

Mukuro hums as Hibari roughly jostles the swing, and he musters enough energy to transform the drab playground into a windy hill, complete with cherry blossoms flying everywhere because well, it’s sorta _their_ thing, his and Hibari’s. And with blood most likely rushing in his lungs, Mukuro feels just a tad bit sentimental. 

“So, when’s our ride arriving here?” The illusionist asks, leaning back far enough so that the top of his head brushes against Hibari’s bloodied shirt. “Because as much as I love spending time with you, I can’t feel my legs anymore.” 

Hibari grimaces, weakly pushing the swing again, “five minutes.”

“Lovely,” Mukuro muses out loud, before shooting the other man a cheeky grin. “Now push me harder, I want to reach the top.” 

 


End file.
